


Between Reality and Dreaming

by Tirlaeyn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Episode: s03e08 The Great Red Dragon, F/M, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Missing Scene, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:36:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirlaeyn/pseuds/Tirlaeyn
Summary: Will has sex with Molly, but his mind is with someone else.





	Between Reality and Dreaming

A final sip of whiskey empties the glass and ends any excuse he has to stay up. 

He slips between the sheets careful and quiet. But she wakes enough to roll over and pull him into her too warm embrace. He settles in her arms, his body conforming itself around her. With eyes closed, he tries to sleep, but every place their skin touches presses on his mind. He tries to pull away, but she's awake for real now, with kisses on his mouth and fingers running down his back.

_But the fingers are calloused in the wrong places and lips taste of red wine and the wrong kind of meat._

His cock stirs as he kisses her. She hooks a leg over his hips and pulls him on top of her as she rolls onto her back. They shift to realign their bodies. He looks down.

_He sees sharp cheekbones and dark eyes and a mouth that opens and speaks with a tempting tongue._

_“Kiss me, Will.”_

And he does kiss her, on her lips and down her neck. He breathes in the scent between her breasts. When he takes a nipple in his mouth, she sinks her fingers into his hair and holds tight. He slides a hand down her body along the soft warm skin of her belly and the curve of her thigh. She moans and spreads her legs further. 

_“Please, Will.”_

It's his turn to moan in response to that voice he can't help but hear, to the thought of those hands pushing his head down, down. But it is her clit his strokes with his tongue, swirling and sucking as his fingers dance across her thigh. He closes his eyes.

_The weight of a cock in his mouth, the taste of it fills him at once with need and satisfaction. He strokes along the vein then pulls back to swirl around the head, collecting all the pre-come on his tongue and drinking it down._

“Oh, my sweet Will. Yes!”

She cries out in ecstasy as she comes, but he doesn't let up. She begs for his fingers and he obliges. Two strong, nimble fingers fill her, finding the exact spot, the exact angle she needs. She fucks herself on them as he continues to suck her clit. Her mouth is open as she comes again, but there is no sound. Only the scent and sight and taste of her surrounding him.

_Spit and come run down his chin as the cock in his mouth softens. He is loathe to give it up, but hands tug at his hair._

“Get up here and kiss me.”

He gathers her into his arms and holds her as she whispers ‘I love you’ into his neck. After a moment, her hand finds his cock. 

_“Fuck me, Will. I want to feel you”_

He groans. He’s hard and leaking, but it isn't for her. He knows it's wrong. He knows. But when he tells her to get on her hands and knees, she goes so willingly. She wants him. She likes it like this, the depth he can achieve, the sharpness of his thrusts, the way his fingers press bruises into her hips. He fucks into her soft, wet heat. 

_All he can see are the hard planes of a back shiny with sweat, hair curling against a neck, and hands twisting the sheets._

He grabs hips and fucks hard, moans real and imagined mingling in his ears. The veil thins as his orgasm nears, and for a moment he forgets what is real. He comes hard inside her and bites his tongue to keep from crying out the name his heart repeats with every beat. 

Later, after clean up, kissing, and cuddling, when she is finally asleep, he slips out of bed and retrieves the letter from the drawer. He opens it with shaking fingers and reads every word in that voice as if it was there in the room. He stares at the letters of his own name written in that beautiful script. Then he places it in the fire like an offering. The smoke curls up like incense. He whispers a name into the flames.

_Hannibal._

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me @diea-kierlyn on Tumblr or @tirlaeyn on Twitter.


End file.
